Clarisse La Rue and The Spear of Panic
by JMFearless
Summary: After the quest for the Golden Fleece, Clarisse is feeling bored. Even the camp training exercises no longer pump her up the way they used to. As she's brooding over this fact, Ares contacts her and tells her that he's looking for someone to succeed him as God of War. He sends her on a quest to find a spear once wielded by Phobos, The God of Fear. Clarisse-centric. R&R please.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. All characters used are copyrighted to Rick Riordan (except for Diogenes in chapter three, who is, in fact, a historical figure.) That is all.**

**Clarisse La Rue and the Spear of Panic**

**by**

**JMFearless**

**A/N: Before we begin the story, I should mention that I'm still working on the first Percy Jackson book, which means three things: 1) My characterization of Clarisse will be based on her portrayal in the second film. (Which I saw last night; it was awesome!) 2. While I am aware that there is a short story involving Clarisse and Phobos, we're going to just ignore that for the sake of this story. 3) I apologize in advance if I mess up any characterizations by the standards of the books. All right, that concludes my rambling.**

**Chapter One**

**Clarisse**

Life is funny; a few days ago, I navigated the Sea of Monsters, retrieved the legendary Golden Fleece from a vicious Cyclops, and took on a giant Titan named Kronos with the fate of the world at stake. (Okay, so I didn't do much of the actual fighting, but I was there.) I should be feeling pretty good about myself; instead I'm just bored. I guess that's one of the occupational hazards of being a demigod: Once you've saved the world, nothing else really compares. Even the camp training exercises don't get me fired up like they used to. I've even taken to sitting and staring out at Long Island Sound to pass the time. The view is pretty nice I guess, but I'd rather be watching a good battle. When you're the daughter of The God of War, boredom is a pretty ugly thing. Too much time spent alone with your thoughts leads to you coming up with new and creative ways to injure people.

"Funny. I never really took you for the 'staring at the ocean' type. That's more my thing, don't you think?" I let out a sigh. I really want to tell Jackson to get lost, but seeing as he _did _kind of bail me out on my quest for the Golden Fleece, I at least owe him a little tolerance.

"What do you want, Jackson?" I ask him.

"You've been acting weird lately," he comments. "You haven't been as into the training exercises. I've missed your usual taunting." I glance up at him. The look on his face is somewhere between a wry grin and an expression of concern. "Are you okay?"

"I need a quest," I tell him. "A real one; these training exercises aren't cutting it anymore."

"Well, I don't have any quests for you, but how about we spar for a couple of rounds?" he suggests, offering a hand to pull me to my feet. I brush it away.

"No thanks," I say. "I'm not really in the mood."

"You're turning down a chance to beat me to a bloody pulp?" he asks, a note of incredulity in his voice. "This is way more serious than I thought."

"Your sparkling wit never ceases to amaze me, Jackson," I quip, rolling my eyes at him. He laughs.

"Now _that _sounds more like the Clarisse I know," he responds.

"Get lost, Jackson!" I snap at him. What can I say? It's nice that he's worried about me, but I think I've tolerated him enough for one conversation. He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Sure," he answers. "I'll leave you alone with your boredom." Maybe I should have thought this through better. The minute he walks away, I find myself wishing that he was still here. Not in some stupid, sappy romantic way or anything, but just so that there would be someone to fill the air with noise. Fortunately, the universe does not disappoint me. The sound of hoof beats alerts me that Chiron is approaching me.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Chiron announces. "This arrived for you." He holds out a plain white envelope. "It was personally delivered by Hermes himself."

"I didn't know that he still did personal deliveries," I remarked.

"He does when the message is being sent by a God," Chiron informs me. "It's from Ares." A frown crosses my face. Dear old Dad isn't usually one for sending letters; when he talks to me at all, it's usually through telepathy. I take the envelope from Chiron, but wait until he leaves to open it and read the letter. Long story short, it says that he wants to meet me to talk about something important. Apparently so important that he couldn't just include it in the letter. Another thing he didn't think to include in the letter: A meeting place.

"Well, I thought that right here would suffice." I know without even turning around that the voice belongs to Dad, but I turn and face him anyway.

"Dad," I say, my breath catching a little in my throat. I'm not easily startled, but having the God of War suddenly appear behind you will have that effect, even if you're his daughter.

"Hello, Clarisse," he says jovially. "How are things?"

"Boring," I tell him. "I haven't had a decent quest since the Golden Fleece." He chuckles.

"Always looking for the next opponent to fight, just like your old man," he answers. "I might be able to help with that."

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"To put it simply, I'm planning to retire soon," he answers.

"I didn't know you could retire from being a God," I comment, "Especially The God of War. I mean, there are wars all the time, right?"

"Yes," he tells me, "In fact, that's sort of my point. I've seen so many wars over the years that I've seen every possible strategy and outcome that one can imagine. After a while, there's nothing left to see. But I can't retire until I've named a successor." A lump forms in my throat. I'm beginning to understand why he felt that this warranted a face-to-face meeting.

"You're considering me as your successor?" I guess. He nodded. "What about Mark and Sherman?"

"I'm considering them too, of course," he answers, "But no one can be my successor unless they prove themselves. That's where your quest comes in."

"I'm listening," I tell him.

"You may have heard of my son, Phobos," he says.

"Sure," I answer, "The God of Fear."

"That's right," he tells me. "Phobos and I had what you might call an antagonistic relationship. We often clashed with each other. Phobos' secret weapon was a spear that could bring out the worst fears of anyone who got too close to it. Eventually, I managed to defeat Phobos for good, but the effects of his spear reduced my army to a pack of sniveling cowards. I attempted to claim the spear for myself, but Phobos was never one to give up spoils. He separated the tip of the spear from the shaft and sent them to different parts of the world."

"And you want me to find them?" I ask. "That's my quest?"

"Yes," he answers. "Anyone who would call themselves The God of War must have courage. Only someone with enough courage to conquer their fears will be able to take the pieces and bring them back together." At these words, I give him a confident smile.

"Bring it on!" I shout, pumping my fist. It may not be saving the world, but the thought of taking on a quest to become the new God of War is enough to get me charged up again. "Nothing can scare me! No Demigod, no monster, nothing!"

"You have confidence," Dad says, "That's good. You're going to need that. But remember, Clarisse, not all enemies can be killed with swords." I open my mouth to respond, but Dad is already gone. That's just like him; he always has to have the last word. I guess it's a God of War thing. Well, there's no time to dwell on that. I've got to get a lead on the location of the spear pieces and I know just where to start. Time for a visit to The Oracle.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Here's Chapter Two for you.**

**Chapter Two**

**Clarisse**

You would really think that someone as powerful and important as The Oracle would have better personal security. All you have to do is walk right into The Big House, head for the attic, and you've got a personal meeting with her. If someone wanted to kidnap her, it'd be way too easy to gain access. On the other hand, I can't imagine a reason why anyone would want to kidnap an Oracle who is seemingly incapable of giving a straight answer.

_If you have a soul that is honest and brave, seek your prize in the philosopher's cave. One leads to two, so simple you say, but unless united by a courageous soul, separate the two will stay._ I mentally recite what The Oracle told me when I asked about the pieces of the spear; I _hate _riddles. Why couldn't she just tell me "Go here and you'll find the spear pieces" so I could just get to the part of this quest where I stick a sword in some monster? That would be a lot more fun than staring at the pages of _The Republic, _hoping that it holds some answer to The Oracle's riddle. (Yes, I read. Just because I enjoy a good fight doesn't mean I can't also enjoy a good book.) The line about "the philosopher's cave" got me thinking about the Allegory of the Cave, so I got my hands on a copy of _The Republic _(in the original Ancient Greek, of course) and started going over it, but I've been reading these same pages for two hours now and I've got nothing that even remotely hints at an actual physical location. Frustrated, I slam the book shut and then pick it up and slam it once against the table for good measure. That may not bring me any closer to solving the riddle, but it sure makes me feel better.

"I'm sure the book is deeply sorry for whatever it did to make you mad." I glance up from the book to see that Annabeth has seated herself at my table. Jackson is standing about ten feet away, watching us. I have the sneaking suspicion that he asked Annabeth to come talk to me; smart guy, sending her over to scout out the situation rather than risk a black eye by coming himself.

"It's withholding critical information," I inform her, "I was just starting the next round of interrogation."

"Ah," Annabeth says, "Is this about your quest?"

"How do you know about that?" I demand, narrowing my eyes into a glare.

"Take it easy," Annabeth answers, spreading her hands in what I guess is supposed to be a calming gesture. "Everyone in the camp knows that your Dad came to see you. The God of War can't show up for even a few minutes without attracting attention. After it happened, I saw you going into The Big House. I figured you were on your way to see The Oracle. Once I knew that, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Obviously, you'd been given a quest."

"You're right," I told her, "I have been a given a quest and I'd like to get back to it, so if you don't mind, please leave." I try to keep my voice controlled, but it isn't easy. Frustration isn't an emotion I deal with very well.

"So you can stare at the book for another couple of hours and drive yourself crazy?" Annabeth asks. "Here's an idea: Tell me what The Oracle told you. Maybe I can give you some fresh insight. I happen to be really awesome at riddles." I grimace; the thought of having to rely on someone else to give me the starting point for my quest is really irritating. Still, she has a point: As far as "people to turn to for advice" go, I could do a lot worse than the daughter of Athena.

"Fine," I agree, "But first, you can tell Jackson it's safe for him to come over. I'm in a mood, but not enough of one to spend energy hitting him." Annabeth laughs. Before I can tell her that I wasn't joking, she waves Jackson over. So I was right; she _did _come over here because he asked her to.

Once he takes a seat next to her, I fill them in on the nature of the quest and tell them what the Oracle told me. When I finish, Annabeth looks thoughtful. "Well, most of it is self-explanatory," she says after a few moments of silence, "When you find one of the pieces, it will lead you to the other one. But that's not enough; in order to join the two pieces back together, you need to be able to overcome their power."

"Courage won't be a problem for me," I assure her.

"I believe that," she answers. "I think I can tell you where to look. The Oracle said that your soul needs to be both honest _and _brave."

"Yeah," I answer, "So?"

"So, there's a cave on Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia called Diogenes Cave. Diogenes was an Ancient Greek philosopher. He was known for walking the streets at night with a lantern. When asked why he did it, he would always say that he was looking for an honest man."

"Makes sense," I agree. "Thanks for the insight." I rise to my feet and walk away from the table, without even bothering to pick up the book.

"Hey, where are you going?" Jackson calls after me.

"Where do you think?" I ask without turning around, "I've got a lot of preparing to do if I'm going to Nova Scotia."

"You're not planning to go alone, are you?" Percy asks

"That's the idea," I answer.

"That's kind of insane, you know," he tells me, "You don't know what you're up against. You should let us come with you. We can back you up."

"No!" I answer, more forcefully than is probably necessary. "I mean, you shouldn't do that. This quest is mine. It isn't your problem." I walk way without saying another word. I already know what my next move is: I need to borrow one of Dad's boats again.

**Percy**

"I know what you're thinking," Annabeth tells me after Clarisse leaves. "Don't do it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I answer.

"Of course you do," she counters, "I know you, Percy. You're planning to follow Clarisse on her quest and I am telling you, that is a bad idea."

"No, going after the spear by herself is a bad idea," I respond.

"Maybe, but it's her decision to make," Annabeth tells me, her voice softening a little. "This isn't like what happened with the Golden Fleece. There's no Great Prophecy telling you to go after her."

"So that means I can't help her?" I ask. "It's not like I'm planning to steal credit from her or anything."

"I know you'd never do something like that," Annabeth tells me. "But she wants to do this by herself. It's not right for you to intrude on her quest."

"You had no problem helping her," I point out.

"Solving a riddle is not the same thing as actually joining the quest," she counters. "All I did was give her a place to start." A tense silence hangs between us; I don't like it. After what feels like forever, Annabeth speaks. "You're going to go after her no matter what I say, aren't you?" she asks me. I nod. I get what she's trying to say, but I'm not leaving Clarisse to go after that thing on her own.

"Fine," she says. "Then let's take an oath. We'll swear on the River Styx that neither one of us will ever tell anyone else about you involving yourself in Clarisse's quest. Do you swear it?"

"Annabeth, are you serious?" I ask.

"Percy!" she shouts. The look in her eyes is all the answer I need: She's serious.

"All right," I agree. "I swear it on the River Styx."

"So do I," she responds. "The oath is set." I nod.

"I'd better go," I tell her, "Clarisse was right. There's a lot of preparation to do." Annabeth nods.

"Percy," she calls to me as I walk away. I turn to face her. "Come back in one piece."

"I was planning on it," I answer, giving her my best reassuring grin before heading back to the cabin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Clarisse**

The big problem with borrowing transportation from Dad is that only vehicles used for combat fall under his domain. That's pretty useful when you're going somewhere like the Sea of Monsters, but much less so when you're trying to sail into Nova Scotia without attracting undue attention. After trying (and failing) to find a boat that would look reasonably inconspicuous, I finally settled on an old Viking longship. Not ideal, but if anyone asks about it, I can just say that I'm a lover of antique boats. At least the crew is human this time. A boat full of the undead might be a little harder to explain away.

I manage to find Cape Breton Island right away, but the Diogenes cave is a little tougher to come by. I have to go around the island three times before I spot the opening. Taking a deep breath, I duck my head and attempt to enter the cave, but a powerful force throws me backwards. I let out a groan of pain as I land on my back on the hard ground. After catching my breath, I struggle to my feet and stare at the opening. There's no sign of anything or anyone who could have knocked me backwards, which can only mean one thing: The cave entrance is sealed with a barrier. I start going over the possible implications of that in my mind: Is the barrier meant to keep anyone from reaching the spear piece or is it blocking me out specifically? I'm hoping it's the first option, since the second would most likely mean that one of my brothers beat me here and is trying to keep me from getting in the way.

"Only an honest person can enter the cave," a voice says from somewhere in front of me. I look ahead, trying to find the source of it, but I'm not seeing anyone.

"I _am_ honest!" I protest, then immediately wish that I had kept my mouth shut. Responding to disembodied voices is not a constructive use of my time.

"Indeed?" the voice asked, "And who are you to call yourself honest?" At these words, a figure appears in front of me. He is an old man, dressed in what can only be described as "rags". A lantern is held in his right hand. It looks like it's lit, but instead of orange, the glow coming from it is closer to pale white in color. His sudden appearance startles me, but I refuse to step back. Dad said this was a test of my courage and people with courage don't shrink back like cowards.

"I am Clarisse LaRue," I announce boldly, taking another step towards the cave opening, "Daughter of Ares." Again I attempt to step through the opening and again I am thrown backwards. I groan again and force myself to my feet.

"What was that for?!" I demand, glaring at the old man, "Why didn't the stupid barrier let me through? Every word of my answer was the truth!"

"There is much more to being an honest person than simply telling the truth to others," he answers.

"And who are you to tell me that I'm dishonest?!" I demand.

"I am someone who seeks an honest person," he answers.

"You're Diogenes," I realize, remembering Annabeth's story about how Diogenes would carry a lantern through the streets of Athens, claiming to be looking for an honest man. "You're a long way from Athens, you know."

"This cave bears my name," Diogenes answers, "One's name is something worth protecting, so I keep this place safe from the dishonest." Translation: The barrier is his. I glance down at the sheath attached to my hip, wondering if my sword might help me solve this problem, but I immediately discard the idea. Diogenes died a long time ago, so this is just his ghost. Sticking a sword in him isn't going to do anything.

"How do I get through the barrier?" I ask.

"I told you," he answers. "You just need to be honest and the barrier will let you pass."

"I _have _been honest!" I insist. "You asked who I was and I told you! What's so complicated about that?!"

"Sit and think," he advises, "Maybe the answer will come to you." I frown; sitting and thinking is not exactly one my strong points, but seeing as I don't have any other options at the moment, I take a seat on the ground, cross my legs at the ankles, and give this situation some thought. So, I have a barrier in front of me that can only be crossed if I'm honest, but just giving an honest answer isn't enough. Diogenes said that there was more to being honest than telling the truth to others. Does that mean that I'm being dishonest with myself? Arrgh! This train of thought is getting me nowhere. I wish that Annabeth were here; hell, at this point, I'd even settle for having Jackson to keep me company. Who knows, if one of them were here, they might have some insight into why the barrier won't let me through. I wish I had taken Jackson up on his offer to back me up. He was a pretty big help in the Sea of Monsters, after all. Was he right? Was it insane for me to take on this quest by myself? What was I thinking not accepting his offer? That last question is rhetorical. I know exactly what I was thinking: I was thinking that this quest wouldn't mean anything if I couldn't handle it on my own. I was thinking that any future God of War worth her salt would be able to get the spear without relying on other people. I was thinking that if I could be the one to complete this quest, Dad would finally see me as equal to Mark and Sherman, maybe even superior to them.

A sound like something shorting out snaps me out of my thoughts; it doesn't take me long to figure out that it came from the cave entrance. Did the barrier disappear? Rising to my feet, I cautiously approach the cave entrance. Bracing myself for the impact, I reach out and stick my hand through the opening. Nothing happens.

"Hey!" I call to Diogenes, "What's going on here? You said that I wouldn't be able to pass through the barrier unless I was honest, but I didn't even say anything." He chuckles.

"I also told you that there was more to being honest than telling the truth to others," he points out, "A truly honest person is truthful even when no one else can hear them." I've never really thought of it that way before, but he has a point. I guess I would have to be pretty honest to even consider the possibility that my decision to come on this quest alone was a mistake.

"Hey Diogenes," I call to him, "I don't really have anything of value to give you in return, but I want to thank you. This little chat session of ours has been pretty enlightening."

"No need to thank me," he answers, "Giving wisdom to others is a philosopher's business." I laugh; Annabeth would like him. It's too bad she isn't here. Taking a deep breath, I duck my head and walk through the cave opening.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Clarisse**

It feels like I've been walking in here forever. I lost sight of the light from the entrance a long time ago. I wonder if I would even be able to find my way back now. The thought causes my heart to start racing faster and sweat to start dripping down my forehead. _No! _I tell myself forcefully. _You are the daughter of Ares! You do _not _get scared. You're just having an adrenaline rush because you've been walking for so long. _I nod to myself; that must be it. It has to be. I don't have the luxury of being afraid. Not when the title of "God of War" is on the line. I keep pressing forward through the cave, keeping my eye out for any sign of the spear piece. Questions begin to pop into my head: Which piece is it: The point or the shaft? Where you would you hide something like that in a cave? Is it guarded? I still have my sword, but that can only go so far. I wish I had some idea of what kind of protection the spear piece might have.

I eventually come across a wide clearing bathed in light. I breathe a sigh of relief. If this clearing has light, then that means there must be an opening somewhere nearby and opening means that I won't have to find my way back to the entrance when I need to get out of here. Right now, though, I'm not thinking about leaving. Instead, I'm thinking that this would be a good place to stop and rest. Not a moment too soon either; I'm exhausted. I carefully lie down on my back on the floor, enjoying how nice the cool stone feels. My eyelids feel heavy, but I force them to stay open. Resting is one thing, but falling asleep is not an option. If I am getting close to the spear piece, then I need to be awake in case something attacks me.

My eyes are suddenly attracted to the ceiling. I can't tell why at first, but after looking closely for a few minutes, I see what got my attention: The light in this clearing is glinting off something in the ceiling. I quickly rise to my feet and look around. From what I can tell, the light isn't behaving that way anywhere else in the clearing. I crane my neck and squint up at the spot. A wide grin spread across my face. The light is reflecting off a small metal point that's wedged into the ceiling: It's the tip of the spear! I've found the first piece! Unfortunately, my elation fades quickly as I realize that the tip is well out of my reach. I may have tracked it down, but I'm no closer to having it then I was before I got here.

Stepping back to the farthest edge of the clearing, I give myself a running start and try jumping for it, but it's no use. My hands fall well over two feet short of reaching the tip. This sucks! It's literally right there and I can't get it! Sure wish I had a pair of winged shoes with me. If I'd known I'd be dealing with something like this, I would have brought one.

"It's not like it matters," a familiar voice says from behind me. I turn around to see Sherman standing in front of me, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"How did _you _get in here?" I demand. "I know someone like you couldn't pass through the barrier."

"You must have figured out by now that the front entrance isn't the only way in," he answers. "You know, you should really turn back. Whether you leave here with the tip or not doesn't matter."

"And why's that?" I ask.

"Because when all this is over, you aren't going to win," he tells me. "You don't have what it takes to bring back the spear or take Dad's place. You know it and so does he. The only reason that he included you in this little contest is because he thought that you might make a good practice opponent for whichever one of his _sons _becomes the new God of War."

"Shut up!" I snap at him, immediately drawing my sword and pointing it at him. "I_do _have what it takes! I'd be better at his job than either of you!"

"Oh, is that right?" he asks. "Then why don't you show me how much better you are than me?"

"Gladly," I answer. I swing the sword as hard as I can at his chest, but it passes through him harmlessly. Carried forward by the force of the swing, I drop to my knees.

"That's right!" he snarls. "Get on your knees like the coward you are!"

"H…How did you avoid that?" I ask, gasping for breath. Did that one swing really take so much out of me? He laughs and his features begin to melt away. I watch in shock as Sherman is replaced by my father.

"You should listen to him," he says. "He's right. I do know that you can't handle this quest. In fact, I was hoping it would get you killed just so my pathetic excuse for a daughter would be out of my hair!" I glare at him and raise the sword. I swing it at him, even though I know that trying to attack a God is a wasted effort. Just like with Sherman, the sword passes right through him. That's when I realize: neither Sherman nor my father is actually here. What I'm seeing are phantoms. Dad told me that the spear has the power to bring out people's worst fears. The tip must still have some of that power in it. Does that mean that what I'm seeing in front of me is something that I'm afraid of? That's ridiculous! I might find Dad a _little _terrifying, but Sherman is nothing. I could beat him with one hand tied behind my back. The spear has it wrong this time.

"The spear never gets it wrong," Dad says. "You _are _afraid." Just like with Sherman, his features begin to melt away and someone new takes his place. I know this face. I should; I see it whenever I look in the mirror.

"I'm scared," the other me says. "I'm afraid that I won't make a good God of War. Even if I succeed at the quest, I'll be a failure at the job. After all, I can't do anything on my own."

"You shut up!" I snap, "That is not what I think!" Enraged, I fling the sword at my double's head. It passes through her and clatters against one of the walls of the cave.

"Dad will lose any respect he might have for me," she continues, acting as though I didn't say anything. "He'll wish that he had named one of his sons as his successor instead of me."

"I said shut up!" I yell at her, but this time my voice comes out sounding shaky.

"I'm even scared of the truth," she goes on. "I pretend I'm not afraid, but when someone tells the truth right to my face, I yell and scream and fight to block it out."

"I'm done listening to you!" I snarl. I run to the other side of the clearing, grab my sword, and point at her. She laughs.

"Haven't you been paying any attention?" she asks. "That sword can't hurt me!" She walks towards me slowly, a cruel smile on her face. She's right. Nothing I do will stop her. I have no choice, I have to run. I head for the exit to the clearing as fast as I can. I don't even get ten steps before I spot Jackson in front of me.

"Clarisse!" he says. "Are you all right?" _He's not really here, _I tell myself, _It's just another phantom made by the spear to mess with your head._ Even though I know it will probably be no more effective than it was with the others, I slash at him with my sword. To my surprise, he cries out in pain. Blood is dripping down his right shoulder.

"You bleed!" I exclaim. He glares at me.

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you cut someone!" he snaps.

"So you're…actually here?" I ask. His glare turns to a look of confusion.

"Yeah," he answers. "What does that mean?"

"I'll explain in a minute," I tell him. "First, we should heal that wound. Please tell me you brought some water with you." He nods weakly.

"In the backpack," he answers. For the first time, I notice that he is wearing a backpack. I open the large pocket and take out a bottle of water. "I thought I might get hurt, so I filled up a few bottles before I left. I didn't think you would be the one to hurt me though. I know you didn't want me here, but don't you think that was a little extreme?"

"I'm sorry," I answer, uncapping the bottle of water. "I found the spear tip. It's in a clearing up ahead, but it made me see things. Phantoms of people I know. I thought you were one of them." I pour a little of the water over the injury and just like that, it closes up.

"Good as new," he says, testing the arm. "So the spear tip is up ahead, huh? Show me." I shake my head.

"I'm not sure I can go back in there right now," I tell him. "It freaked me out." His hand suddenly clamps around my wrist, but it isn't a rough gesture. His grip is soft, as though he's trying to reassure me.

"I've got your back," he promises.

"Good," I answer. "Then swear something to me: No matter what happens in there, you won't let me leave until I've gotten the tip." He grins.

"I swear it on the River Styx," he tells me. I nod. That's a little more serious of a promise than I was looking for, but at least he's committed. I lead him to the clearing. It's surprisingly easy to find my way back. A place like that leaves an impression on you. When we walk in, the clearing is empty. No phantoms in sight. Good.

"The tip is up there," I tell him, pointing to the spot on the ceiling. "I don't suppose you packed a pair of winged shoes in that backpack?"

"Sorry," he answers, shaking his head. Before I can even start to think of how to retrieve the tip, Jackson goes to stand under it. Facing me, he cups his hands together and holds them out.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Making myself useful," he responds. "Come on, I'll give you a boost."

"Are sure about that, Jackson?" I ask him. "I know you're pretty strong, but that's a lot higher than it looks. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Well, it is true that you've put on a few pounds since you started slacking off in the training exercises," he answers.

"Hey!" I yell at him. "I might not be as into them as I used to be, but I do _not _slack off! I bet I'm in a lot better shape than you are!"

"Then come over here and prove it," he challenges me. "Or are you scared of what will happen when you grab the tip?"

"I'm not scared!" I snap at him, "Let's do this!" I move next to him, lift my right foot, and press it into his palms, simultaneously grabbing onto his shoulders to support myself. I feel myself rising towards the ceiling as he lifts me up. Removing my hands from his shoulders, I reach up and try to grab the spear, but I'm still not able to grab it. "Is that all you've got?" I call down to him. He doesn't respond, but a moment later I feel myself rise higher. My hands clasp around the tip of the spear. "I got it," I call. "I'm going to pull it out now. Don't drop me." Tugging with all my might, I manage to remove the spear from the rock. I jump down and land on my feet in front of Jackson. I hold up the point of the spear for him to see.

"Nice work!" he approves.

"Couldn't have done it without you," I tell him. "Thanks." He shrugs.

"Don't mention it," he answers. "Let's get out of here." I nod and let him lead the way. In all the excitement, I never got a chance to look for the second opening I figured was in the cave, but thankfully Jackson remembers the way. I'm impressed; I guess spending so much time with Annabeth has been rubbing off on him.

As I follow him, the fake-Clarisse phantom appears again. "So you got the tip," she tells me, "Good for you. You'll still never make a decent God of War." I blow her off without answering. I got what I came for, so she isn't my problem anymore.


End file.
